


I Won't Step on Your Toes

by thunderclaws



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Borderline Personality Disorder, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Depression, Drunk Steve Rogers, M/M, My knowledge on mental disorders is limited forgive me, POV Bucky Barnes, POV Steve Rogers, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Unreliable Narrator, cause im ignoring the canon a bit, this might include my attempt at something smutty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-09 20:33:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3263468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderclaws/pseuds/thunderclaws
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve promised to cook for Sam's engagement party. Bucky offers to help him. Steve wants a dog and Bucky is in need for some hugs. </p><p>AKA Bucky is hurt and Steve wants nothing but to make it okay...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wake Up

**Author's Note:**

> What started as a short 'Steve and Bucky cooking together' - fic, somehow ended up as this mess...
> 
> So yeah I decided to write my first fic that has actual plot!  
> I don't know how understandable the plot is, but it's in there somewhere, bear with me.  
> Also I don't mean to analyse Bucky at any point but it's pretty sure he's depressed, has PTSD and possibly BPD, too... 
> 
> Mature for the somewhat dark themes and violence, and possible sex..? 
> 
> For my beta reader: I'm sorry I got excited
> 
> I DO NOT OWN MOST OF THE CHARACTERS
> 
> (psst I'm on tumblr: daintyrogers.tumblr.com)

**Part 1**

 

_Somethin’ filled up_   
_my heart with nothin’,_   
_someone told me not to cry._   
  
[Arcade Fire - Wake Up](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9zdNdjF-htY)

 

“Hey, you're not supposed to start a fight with it, you know?” Steve catches Bucky's attention from behind him, as he is kneading the dough. His focus is wandering somewhere deep in his mind.

“What?” He shakes off the previous train of thought and continues slamming the dough on the table. He can hear footsteps coming closer.

“You're not supposed to start a fight with the dough.” Steve whispers.

Bucky is surprised at how close he is now, his voice coming from right next to Bucky's ear. He looks down at his knuckles that have turned white. With a sigh he leaves the soon-to-be-bread on the table. He hadn't even realized the force he was using.

“You wanna do this then?” He snaps as he turns around to face Steve, who – unlike Bucky had thought – doesn't back off. Their chests are almost touching and Steve has cornered Bucky. He doesn't feel cornered at all. In fact he only feels his heart beating slightly faster than usual. It's the same familiar reaction Steve's closeness has always caused. Even this annoys Bucky right now. 

“No. I'm just saying” He answers in an even voice, his gaze deep in the other ones eyes.

“ _What_?" Bucky had come here to help, out of his own free will, he can knead the dough in whatever way he pleases. Steve takes a step back and leans to the counter behind him.

“You could start boxing, if you need to get that anger out. Baking's not the way to do that. Not in my kitchen at least” He states, voice still flat but full of sarcasm at the same time.

“I'm not being _that_ aggressive...” Bucky mutters and returns to his kneading as the other one starts mixing his own ingredients.

 

 

A moment later, Steve walks next to Bucky again and puts his hands on the other ones wrists.

“I was being serious. Be gentle. It's not going to hurt you, so just... relax.” He takes the dough from his hands and starts kneading it. Bucky keeps his facial expression set even though he's quite annoyed. Why does Steve care so much? What the hell does it even matter which way the soon-to-be-bread is treated? It's not like the dough is gonna get mad at them for mistreating it!

“Okay _okay_ , I get it! Just let me finish it, I'll get out of your way after that." Bucky grits his teeth together. Steve takes his hands away from the dough.

“I'm sorry. Why are you like this?” He places his eyes at him. Bucky turns his face to look back. He can't bring his eyes to meet the demanding blue eyes glaring at him.

“I'm not being like anything...” He bites his cheeks to stop himself from snapping again. He is being like something. He's angry. He's pissed off. Why? Steve has done nothing to him... Neither had the dough, for that matter.  
Blue eyes are searching for something in Bucky's. When they presumably find what they were looking for or give up, Steve turns away. Bucky looks back to the dough, giving his gentle movements all his concentration.

 

 

“Buck?” Steve's taking something from the oven and placing it on the counter.

“Hmm?” Bucky continues on wiping the table. The dough is ready and he's ready to leave, to get out of Steve's way.

“Is everything okay?” Steve sounds genuine. The question leaves Bucky standing before the counter, dumbfounded. He stares at the table.  
Is he okay? Relatively speaking, yes..

“Yeah” He whispers still staring at the counter and something clenches in his belly. “I'm okay.” Bucky confirms and turns around now.

“I'm not... perfect, but it's getting better than it was...” Blue eyes are invading his eyes again, trying to get something out of him. “I'm okay” He hears himself saying again, his heartbeats thumping in his ears. There's a lump in his throat. Steve's raw stare making his cheeks flushed. It detects Bucky's lie.

 

 

It feels like forever, both of them just standing there. Bucky's staring into nothingness, feeling Steve's eyes on his face. He thinks that he should just leave now. Make an end to this moment. But as soon as he changes his position - Steve interrupts him.

“Don't go” He's moving closer to him. Bucky can't look back at his face. The cabinet behind him is easier to look at. It doesn't make him want to let loose all the feelings he's been hiding. Reveal all the pain he'd felt... All the pain he is feeling every time he's left alone...

“Can I... hug you?” Is the next thing he hears. He places his eyes on the asker's face and nods, because he can't really run away now, can he?  
Soon Bucky feels warm arms closing around his shoulders, then holding him tightly. _It feels like home._  
He places his arms around the other one's waist and makes a mental note of how different this feels from all the hugs he and Steve have shared in the past. _In his memories..._

Everything that has been piling up inside of him for all these years is now breaking free. Every nightmare softening into something that might be falling down from his eyes. Bucky lets go.

 

 

Not a single therapist or any words or hugs from anyone before had had this effect. He's collapsing in Steve's steady arms while he's whispering calming words into Bucky's ear. _“'S alright, it's okay, you're safe...”  
_ Gentle fingers are touching him, making small circles on his back. After a small moment and more tears that he has ever shed Bucky opens his eyes. He looks at the same cabinet as before, his vision blurry with tears. Nothing seems real. It's all a big mess inside his head. But at the same time there's nothing else but this moment, no thoughts... Just everything collapsing and arms around him holding him. Steve is steady. He's the only solid thing as everything else melts and turns into liquid. And Bucky feels like he's falling.

Steve keeps him where he is, doesn't let him slip away. Keeps him from slipping into the limbo of darkness filled with death and painful memories. More of those than any human mind should be able to take. The place of his nightmares.

 

 

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

Even after two years, Bucky still gets fragments of the time as the Winter Soldier. Feelings, pictures, names, sounds. Sounds of people screaming as he tortures them... Names of the people he shouted for while he was being tortured... Feelings of numbness, loneliness, coldness... He's always so cold.

The guilt is the worst of it all. People keep telling him that none of the things the Winter Soldier did were his fault. But the guilt doesn't go away. It sticks to him. It's always there behind his thoughts. Lurking and reminding him of all the terrible things he's done. Most of which he doesn't even remember.

That's another thing. He doesn't know if it was a good thing to take away the Winter Soldier's memories. He still keeps remembering some of them, as they come back stronger, more painful. Surprising him every time, each memory being even more painful than the one before. Those memories mixing up with memories of war, blending together... His own kills mixed up with the ones done with the metal arm. Maybe it would've been better for him to remember it all, to suffer it all once.

So what if he couldn't have survived it? Maybe he ought to have killed himself. At least it would've been a merciful death.

His life is a mess, and he knows it. The only thing not messy are his feelings for Steve. They are as clear to him as they have always been, if not clearer. But Steve had changed. Steve doesn't need Bucky anymore. Steve has other people, new friends. Bucky cant help but feel betrayed, left out, lonely... Just like he felt when Steve had Peggy... He hates that he feels this way, but in his messed up head, he can't stop it. _Replaced_. He feels replaced...

He feels like he's only a burden, an obstacle in the way of Steve's happiness. He doesn't want to worry him, doesn't want to ruin Steve's change at a new life. Bucky sometimes thinks that it would've been better for Steve, too if... if Bucky had died.

So... Somehow, even Steve is a mess now.

 

 

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

“You know you can talk to me?” Steve asks once Bucky's calmed down. He's breathing steadily, his face still pressed to the crook of Steve's neck. He's embarrassed of how wet his tears made Steve's shirt. Bucky knows he can talk to Steve. He doesn't want to though. Talking is hard. He saves his energy to talk for his therapist and the people at the meetings...

“I know...” He mumbles to Steve's neck. He can't let go. His arms are squeezing Steve's waist so much it aches, but he can't let go. It's a death grip and Bucky's sure it hurts Steve, but he doesn't make a move. Maybe he can't move under Bucky's metal arm's pressure.

“Good.” Steve says and slides his hand across Bucky's back in a slow movement. It's reassuring. Steve is telling him it's okay not to talk. Steve is telling him he understands.

 

 

After what feels like two seconds in the steady arms Bucky lets go slowly. He takes a step back and gives Steve a tiny smile. He doesn't want to let go yet.

“I'm sorry” He whispers even though he knows he shouldn't apologize for this. He _needs_ to apologize for giving Steve a part of his heavy mind, of his pain. Steve gives him a fond look and a tiny smile brushes on his lips. He doesn't say anything and Bucky is thankful. There's nothing he could say to make him feel less apologetic. Steve looks back to the kitchen and sighs.

“I guess I should continue on making the dinner...”

Bucky feels heavy and tired. And even though he wants to help Steve, he feels like he might be more of a obstacle.

“I think I need to rest...” He feels like apologizing again. Steve looks at him shortly and nods.

“You do look like you need to rest. You can stay here if you want. The party starts at six, there's no point you going home and then coming back.” Steve suggests and takes something from the fridge. Bucky doesn't feel like seeing people at all.

“I don't think I'm coming to the party...” He mutters and steps closer to the kitchen table to take his jacket from the chair. Steve shakes his head.

“No, no, no, you're coming. Sam would want you there! It's – and I quote – 'the second most important day of his life', so... be there, even for a few minutes.”

Bucky turns around and walks to Steve's bedroom. He can't argue with Steve when he's feeling like this. Besides Steve always wins anyway.

So he goes for a nap.

 

 

* * *

**Part 2**

 

 

_Hazy lights. The familiar smell of sweat and liquor slithers through Bucky's nostrils._   
_Smoke stinging his eyes. It's coming from the cigarette in his mouth. Steve. Smiling._   
_It's a familiar sight. A bronze light coming from a window and music covering_   
_Steve's voice. Bucky is hungry in a way he hasn't been in a long while. He needs._   
_He yearns. The cigarette finds his mouth again and again. Until there's nothing left,_   
_except the filter. Soon it's gone, too._   
_The music changes. He can't take his eyes off from this beautiful creature_   
_sitting in front of him. Until there's another one. A woman. She is walking towards_   
_him. She's smiling. Something's not right. Panic. Fear. An alarmingly red dress._   
_A knife is placed in his hand. Whispers in his ears. Kill. Kill. Kill. Everything is red now._   
_Bucky's mind is red. He can't see anything but red. Steve is red. The floor is red._   
_Bucky's hands are red. The sky is red._

_Blood. Fear. He's running, but he can't move._   
  
_Steve doesn't move either. Steve whispers something to him. Bucky can't move closer,_   
_but he hears it echoing in his head. He can see Steve lying in front of him, bloody._   
_“You killed me, you killed me, you killed me, you-”_

 

 

Bucky wakes up to his screams. Someone touching his arm. His heart is pounding to his chest. His head is spinning while he lies there covered in sweat.

Steve's hand is warm against his arm. Bucky is so cold it feels like he's all the way back in Russia during a cold winter. It takes a moment to locate himself on Steve's apartment, year 2014.

“Fuck, I'm sorry” He lifts himself on the bed, pushing Steve's hand away. His chest feels hollow as the nightmare comes back to him. The feeling of panic and fear taking over his head.

“It's not your fault” Bucky hears and it makes him sick. He's heard that one too many times. He knows Steve doesn't mean anything by it, but it makes him so mad, because... Because it means nothing and at the same time it means everything. Because it is Bucky's fault.  
He sees red.

“No, it's not. _It's your fault_ ” He spits out and stands up from the bed. He looks Steve dead in the eye and sees something so terrifying, almost like guilt - that it makes him want to apologize. But Bucky's done too much of that. He can't stand that look in Steve's eyes. _“It's not your fault”_ He can't stand this feeling of... guilt, this forever lasting guilt.

“You wanted me to stay here! It's your fault, I didn't make you my babysitter! You're the one who wanted to save me in the first place! _That's not on me!_ ”

Bucky feels red, Bucky sees red, different red from the dream, his red, dark red. He can't understand why he's angry at Steve, but he is. He tries to stomp away from the room but Steve reaches him with his eyes, maybe with his hands too. Bucky can't move forward.

“Bucky. Stop. I want you to stay here, I still want you to be safe”

But he doesn't want to stay here. He wants to run away. Somewhere warm, some place where no one knows him. Away from the sadness and the anger, away from Steve. Somewhere where Steve can't see him like this.

“At least let me drive you home?” Steve whispers and tries to catch Bucky's eyes. _Why is Steve like this? Why must he be so fucking gentle and treat Bucky like some delicate little flower? Why is he being so fucking understanding? Why can't he be angry at Bucky?_ _Why can't he hate him for everything he's ruined? Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with him?..._

“Fine.” Bucky blurts out in a softer voice.

 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

Bucky's therapist had once written letter for him. She said to read it when he feels like running away.

Bucky had truly started to like his therapist after the struggle in the beginning. She is gentle, but not too gentle. She's just right amount of careful, so that Bucky never has a reason to get angry. She is always there, 100% present for him, just like a therapist should.

The first two weeks were just Bucky muttering on and on how therapy is not for him. "Therapists are for people who enjoy talking... Who need to talk about their problems, who can be helped! I am none of that!"

Then Ms. Owens had cornered Bucky with questions. And he shut up. And for once he felt... normal. Like a patient should feel when they're in therapy. Like just another person she had to listen to whine about their problems.  
Bucky had realized that going to those meetings was important for him. Even if he didn't have anything he could talk about. He was the priority of those 60 minutes he spent there. He enjoyed the fact that he didn't need to worry about anyone getting hurt or worried. This person was there because it was their job, a job they had chosen for what-ever reason. She was there for him and he didn't need to be there for her. That was a weight lifted from his shoulders. He had someone to trust not to worry or be sad because of him.

So he kept on going there, even to just be silent. He would just nod at her when he came in the room and she wouldn't say anything the whole time. She'd sit there and doodle in her notebook. Sometimes she'd give Bucky a glance or two, as if to make sure he didn't want to talk. Bucky would just stare out of the window and relax for the 60 minutes. He felt safe.

After few weeks of quiet therapy sessions, he started talking, letting emotions out. She listened, sometimes said something, asked for more information, but never pitied. She never even once looked apologetic or sad for him.

After that he started going to group, too. It felt good to be around people who knew what it felt like to wake up every night to nightmares. What it felt like to feel guilty, to have someone's blood on your hands.

Those people know Bucky's story - just like everyone in the whole world must know. But Bucky doesn't share much, just some vague stories here and there. He likes to listen, to be around people who wouldn't judge or pity.

Talking is becoming easier every session, but sometimes he still needs to just think. Sit in silence and be in his safe place. And that's okay.

Bucky is forever in debt to Tony for pushing him to the first session (and the few after that, too). For paying the whole thing. And never, not even once asking about it. And as far as Bucky knows, Tony hasn't even told anyone.

 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

Now, he remembers that piece of paper his therapist had written for him. Bucky takes it out of his jacket's pocket and reads it to himself.

 

_Create new memories. Live your life, avoid the past as much as you can without removing yourself from it._   
_Don't try to remove the memories from you. Accept them as a part of your past, not your present._   
_Give yourself credit for the progress you make. Savour all the good feelings you feel._   
_Remember that the times you feel like smiling are a step towards an actual smile._   
_When your lips curve upwards, don't stop them. Let others' happiness catch to you._   
_Touch new things, see beauty, try new things. It's a new world, it's a new chance. Allow yourself to smile._   
_James, you must, you **must** forgive yourself. You can and you should start loving yourself again,  you are worth it._

 

He reads it again, making sure he scans every word to his mind. It is stupid and he feels like a child, but it's comforting. This paper is some kind of transitional object for him like a teddy bear is to a child. He feels the calmness of therapy sessions through these words.

He wants these words to be the ones he remembers by heart when he wakes up from a nightmare. He wants to live by these words some day. The words make him smile and he lets them.

 

 

“Steve, uh, do you still need help with cooking?” Bucky asks once he's calmed down enough and looks back at his friend. He feels embarrassed for snapping out, but he doesn't want to apologize... Steve shakes his head with a small smile on his lips.

“Nope, I finished everything while you were sleeping.”

“Thank god” Bucky huffs exaggerating the words and puts the paper back to the pocket of his jacket. He leaves the small smile on his face. Steve returns the gesture.

 

 

He wants to get better, to be better for all the people who are so good to him. Who understand and care for him time after time. Who are his anchor, his solid ground. He wants to be better for Steve. He wants to be able to be Steve's solid ground, too, one day. Because Steve needs it as well, Bucky knows he does. Even though he himself would never tell anyone that.


	2. Is this a dream?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party is a success.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to be a bit longer but I'm tired and the rest of it was a real big mess so I'm letting it go. Maybe I'll start the next chapter with that. 
> 
> I hope you like it. It's a mess. Let me know what you think, I'm trying to teach myself to take feed-back and not hit myself with a brick each time, so please, please tell me what you think! It's for science. 
> 
> But yes, Do enjoy!

_So I ran 'til I couldn't & I screamed, until my voice was gone_   
_I believed what I shouldn't have, I don't know why_   
_These memories are nothing to me, just salt_   
  
[Bad Suns - Salt](https://soundcloud.com/badsuns/salt?in=elmointherain/sets/indie)

 

Steve felt guilty for pressuring Bucky to stay here after having a breakdown. But... somehow he was also glad he did. Bucky didn't need to wake up alone to his nightmare at least.

Steve was ready to drive him back to his apartment, knowing that being in a crowded place might not be the thing he needs most right now. But he also trusted Bucky to know what's best for him, and he decided to stay. Even after the roller coaster of emotions he was on earlier - he wanted to stay. Steve was surprised, but he didn’t argue. It felt good to keep him here.

 

Steve used to have similiar days to Bucky’s after he woke from the ice - still does sometimes. He gets irritated of the smallest of things. He feels tired and sad and lost all of a sudden, see nightmares, have sleepless nights. Hell, he even cries himself to sleep sometimes. But it’s getting better. He’s getting better. He has friends around him, friends that he trusts. And now that HYDRA is out of the picture, their missions are almost like a job. Steady, well-paying job with variable work-hours.

Of course, they don’t get paid directly from the places they work for (helping the police, hunting down criminals, terrorists and even gods in different places around the world) but somehow the money keeps coming their way. Were they in China hunting down a mutant organization that tries to mess up all other organizations of the country or in the United States locking up a motorcycle club outlaw, somehow there’s always a few grand on their back account afterwards. 

He is living as steady life as it's possible for the Captain America to live. And the pain from the past is just that. The past. Sometimes it catches up with him, but Steve has learned how to shake it off. He has his ways. Sometimes it’s catching a bad guy, other times it’s wine and cheese with Nat and Clint.

 

Anyway, the thing is, this is the first time  _Bucky_  has shown any emotion. At least around Steve, that is. It feels like progress. Steve is happy to be able to be there for him. He is happy Bucky was willing to unload his pain in front of Steve. Bucky trusted him. He trusted his pain to him and Steve to be there, hold him still.

Steve had had time to prepare for this. He'd thought of every possible thing Bucky could say or feel. He knew that Bucky's reactions could be so much worse than anything he could ever imagine... But he was prepared.

And he seemed to be in much better shape than Steve ever dared to wish for.

Bucky could fall apart again, the pain could come back even worse, but right now Steve wanted to be happy for the little victories. Bucky wanting to stay here today was one of those victories. 

And Steve’d  be ready if Bucky needed him.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------

 

When the engaged couple arrives, Sam is all smiles and laughter and hugs, just like he had suspected he would be. The happiness radiates from him. His spouse-to-be looks just as animate as he. They're running around the apartment, greeting everyone who’s already there.

 

“Bucky, hey! I'm glad you could make it!" Sam calls out once he spots Bucky. He walks towards him and Bucky gets up from the couch.  
“I'm glad to be here” Bucky says and gives Sam a small smile. Steve walks next to him, feeling like a guard or a worried parent. He can't help it.  
  
“I don't think you've met Kelly yet?” Sam looks at Kelly who's tucked under his arm. They're so in love the love, Steve can sense it in the air. Bucky shakes his head.  
“Well, this is Kelly" Sam tightens his grip of his future spouse and nods. "This is Buck"  
  
“Hey, I've heard a lot about you.” Kelly speaks with a voice that is flowing and soft. Bucky takes Kelly’s hand for a shake.  
“I've heard quite a lot about you too.” Bucky says back with that same tiny smile. He looks at Steve quickly. Steve notices because he hasn't taken his eyes away from Bucky much. He has been scanning his facial expressions, feeling like a overly worried parent. Was that look a 'help me' – look?..  
  
“I'm sure.” Kelly mumbles and looks at Sam, who has a wide grin on his face.   
“And Steve, thank you again for having us here, our apartment is a huge mess...”   
  
“It’s no problem! I’m glad I could help” Steve can’t place himself on this conversation. There’s a certain distraction on the left side of him...  
“Stop thanking him, Smelly, he’s gotta know his place, allright!” Sam bumps his hip to Kelly’s.  
  
“Stop calling me Smelly!” Kelly protests and Steve looks at Bucky with a grin on his face.   
“Never!” Sam declares and takes a step backwards from them.  
  
“You’re a child, Sam Wilson. I’m marrying a child!” Kelly says dramatically, still smiling.  
Sam pouts for a moment with crossed arms and then gives up.    
“Yeah, that you are” 

  
  
Few minutes later Bucky and Steve walk to the couch and sit down again. Sam and Kelly have moved on, talking to other people there. Steve wonders if he should socialize, but the he knows all the people there. Besides, he doesn't really want to talk to anyone else right now. He wants to make sure Bucky's having at least some fun, that he's okay.  Bucky looks okay, but he always does. So Steve needs to be there if he wants to... leave or something.

Steve asks him if he'd like to help serving the food later.

 

He had made 10 different kind of tapas as Sam and Kelly had requested. Well they hoped for _some tapas_ , but Steve got a bit carried away.    
He had baked some chili bread, too. It's to be served still warm from the oven, so that cream and cheese will melt on it.  
Then Steve had realized that every party has to have some dessert, so he baked a cake. And it is huge. Chocolate and strawberries, with a soft melted core.  And it's a surprise to everyone. Except Bucky who helped him buy all the ingredients.

 

When rest of the guests arrive, Bucky follows Steve to the kitchen and they start bringing the food to the dining table. Bucky steals some cake and Steve doesn't bother stopping him. Bucky mutters something along the lines “I could eat the whole cake by myself” and Steve makes a mental note to bake him a cake some day. They keep bumping into each other in the kitchen but luckily they survive without dropping any of the dishes.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------

 

The food is a success. As expected.

 

There's not a table big enough for them all, so people scatter around the apartment to eat.

Natasha and Clint are glued to each other in a corner of the lounge. They try all the different types of tapas and practically feed each other. Kelly and Sam are giggling with Kelly's friends around the kitchen table. Sam keeps eyeing the cake but refrains from eating it before trying most of the tapas.

Bruce, Steve and Bucky are sitting on the floor around the coffee table. They're chatting with Maria, Pepper and Tony about Tony’s _new toy._ It’s a car that has all the same features as the Iron man’s suit. So basically, it’s a Batmobile… Or KITT. Or whatever else Tony wants it to be.   
  
“I don’t get it” Bruce shakes his head again.   
“What’s there not to get? It’s not like this technology is anything new, I just made it look cool!” Tony smirks and takes his class from the table. He's been looking like he's in front of the press this whole evening.   
“You already got the suit, you can fly with it, so … a car?” Maria joins Bruce’s side. Steve had decided to stay out of this childish debate so he just nods his head.   
“Yeah… You probably right, cars are a bit old-fashioned. But I’m just so bored”   
“He really is” Pepper confirms and gives them a pleading look.

“Steve you really have outdone yourself, how the hell do you cook this well? They teach Captain America to cook? Or is it a natural talent?” Tony continues his talking with a quick pace now that he's done with the car topic. When he has too much energy he becomes an over-excited puppy.   
“Lets just say, I’ve got time to practise.” Steve states out and raises his class of water from the table.   
  
The conversation continues and Steve gets more questions about his cooking skills. Bucky gives the people around the table knowing smiles.

It's a nice evening overall. The sun is setting, people are smiling and music is playing on the background. Steve is pleased at how everything flows on its own. Steve is happier than he has been in a while. And he hasn't seen Bucky in such a good mood since... well, since the war. It feels good. More than good actually. It feels unbelievable. He can't believe how well everything is going.   
Almost too well. There's a tiny doubt in the back of his head... He just can’t stop wondering if something terrible is happening inside Bucky’s mind hidden under that tiny smile.   
He still looks okay, but how should Steve know what he looks like when he’s  _not okay_?.. Steve shakes these thoughts away as much as he can.

 

It's not until 9 PM that Bucky distances himself from the crowd.

Steve wants to follow him, to ask him if everything is okay. But he knows better, Bucky wouldn't appreciate that. He doesn't want to smother him.

 

Natasha shoots him a look from the other side of the room. Steve knows what she's thinking. It's been a long time since they last had a good talk about... anything actually. They do talk on their missions, but there's not much time for heart-to-heart moments. Not that they would have much of those even if there was time.

Steve walks past her towards the kitchen and she jumps off the couch and follows him.

 

“Finally” She sighs once they're in the kitchen. She looks at Steve with a strange expression. Steve doesn't get what she's talking about.  
“What 'finally'?” Steve asks and leans on the counter behind him.  
“I kept waiting for you to spare me a look the whole evening. We’d a bet with Clint actually. He just won...”   
  
Natasha lifts herself on top of the counter on the other side of the kitchen and sways her legs back ‘n’ forth. Steve just stares at her, still not following. She could have just... asked him to come talk with her? Natasha notices his confused face and grins.  
“You're eyes were practically glued on Bucky the whole night. You looked like a lost puppy when he left...” She doesn't sound blaming or even surprised or anything, just a bit amused.  
  
“What?” Steve feels a blush rising his cheeks. He wonders what the bet was about...   
“You heard me” Nat has a wide ‘You’re screwed’ - smile on her face.  
“Well, I was just... making sure he's alright...” Steve isn't lying, per se. He counts the tiles on the floor to avoid looking at Natasha.  
“Sure you were” She says, sounding amused. “How is he?”

“He's doing better, I think. I mean he's starting to show at least some emotion... Anger” Steve chooses not to tell about the part where he cried for 20 minutes in his arms. That's personal, Bucky wouldn't like if he told about that, he guesses.  
“Anger's good. It's a good start. I can see his thoughts are here, not in... Russia, or at war or anything.” Natasha's look is heavy with emotion. She turns her eyes back to Steve after a brief silence. Steve feels a bit uncomfortable talking about Bucky like this, but it stuck from when Bucky was under monitoring. Nat and Steve used to talk about his progress to each other, just like this. So hearing Natasha say that Bucky seems okay is reassuring to say the least. 

“But, how are you?” She asks.  
“I'm good"  
"I've been thinking about getting a dog, actually. Or a cat, maybe...” He's heard that animals are helpful for depressed people. They're a different kind of therapy. He sometimes feels so lonely, and so... alone. And it's not because of the lack of physical contact, it's the lack of someone to talk to on a daily basis. Someone to share an apartment with, someone to come home to. Animals always listen, they're always happy to get you back home. 

“You should get a cat, definitely a cat.” Natasha's eyes start glimmering whenever she talks about animals, cats especially. She always has time to talk about them. She's a cat person, no doubt about it.  
“I need to think about it, though. It's a big decision, y'know? With all the time away, I'd need someone looking after it when I'm not here...”  
Natasha starts snickering for some reason. Steve raises his eyebrows at her reaction.  
“Did I say something funny?”  
“No it's just that the solution is right in front of you. Well, not me, of course. But Bucky. He's retired now, right?” Natasha drops herself on her legs from the counter, gracefully, like a cat.  
Steve hadn't  thought of that before. He didn't think Bucky wanted to be around Steve much.  He had come to the conclusion it was too painful.  
Steve hums as an answer. He likes the idea. He likes the idea of Bucky being around more in general… Maybe he’ll think about it. Bucky could do that some day, spend more time at Steve's. It's a nice thought.

“But, how are you?” He asks to change the direction of their conversation.  
Natasha shrugs and takes a glass from the cabinet over the sink.  
“I'm okay. Well, better than that actually... Life is good, you know? Things are good for a change.”  
She pours herself wine, from a bottle Steve had no idea was hidden in his kitchen. He moves to check the cabinet Tasha took that bottle from only to see five more.

Wow, Natasha was right: he  _was not_  paying attention to what was going on in his apartment.

“That's great Nat, but why is there six bottles of wine in my cabinet?”  
Natasha looks at him and waggles her eyebrows “What do you think, dummy?”

She grins and takes the bottle and four glasses to the living room. Steve grabs her glass and three more and follows her.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------

 

By 10.30 PM everyone is on their second glass of wine (except Bruce, Kelly's friends Leah and Eric who are by car and Bucky who doesn't want to drink).

 

Steve always starts hiccuping from even a small amount of wine. His movements are getting a bit clumsy after the second glass. For his defense, they are big glasses.  
He feels warm and social but he is not nearly as tipsy as Natasha is by now. She is dancing around the room and Clint is following her lead, clumsy and slow, but still.  
It looks ridiculous and they have no rhythm to it, but they're having the time of their life. So are Sam and Kelly, who are side by side on the couch, laughing at some inside joke of theirs. Pepper is dancing with Maria as Tony takes pictures of them on his phone.

“Steve! Dance!” Tony keeps telling him and pointing to the 'dance floor'. They had cleared a space in the middle of the living room. Steve shakes his head and mutters excuses when Sam kicks him off the armrest of the couch.

“Go dance” He says and Kelly grins next to him. Steve feels a bit pressured and not even close to drunk enough for dancing. Still, he gulps the rest of the wine and jumps to his feet.

Steve joins Pepper and Maria and starts moving around to the music. Dancing in the 21st century is so much more better than it was back in the 40's. Not that there was anything wrong with the dances back then! But this is so much more casual and relaxed and... variable. And no one needs to worry about having a partner.

Tony takes records them dancing and talks to the camera, and Steve is tipsy enough to ignore it. So they dance, and laugh and Steve can't help his eyes from finding Bucky time after time. He's sitting on a table close to the wall, looking at them and eating cake. His hair is messy and falling to his eyes. Steve can't believe his eyes sometimes. He can't believe that this is his life. That Bucky is here, real, alive.

Pepper and Maria are laughing and Steve jerks back to reality. He feels guilty for missing the joke.   
By the looks of it, he might be the joke.  _Pay attention, Rogers._

 

The song changes into something from the Flume – one of Natasha's favourites. Dancing is a bit awkward before the song actually starts. Natasha knows what she's doing, she knows this song by heart. Steve's sure she has danced to this song, practising for this moment of glory. Clint takes a break and sits on the couch's armrest Steve was sitting on before. Steve joins Nat and follows her lead.

"Not bad, Rogers"  
"Not bad yourself" Steve smirks.  
"It was a goddamn time I saw your dance moves”  
“Was the wait worth it then?” He raises his voice and can’t stop smiling at the ridiculous conversation of theirs. Steve feels so cocky.  
“Like I said, not bad” Natasha grins.   
Steve sees Clint raising his thumbs up. Steve is so happy. 

 

Soon after he leaves the dance floor too and joins Bucky by the table. Bucky smiles at Steve when he walks towards him.

“You're drunk.” He states when Steve sits on the stool next to him. He's drinking something with a straw.  
“Nah, just a bit tipsy” Steve disagrees and Bucky mutters something under his breath.

Steve wants to brush the tiny crumbs of cake off his cheek.

“Uh, I just.. you know you can leave now if you feel like it...” Steve tells Buck. People were getting drunk and Bucky might feel like an outsider? Or tired? He probably feels exhausted by now...

He shakes his head as a response.  
“It's nice to see you like this. All of you.”

Steve feels like he means to say something more. Instead he searches for the straw with his mouth and and looks down at the drink.  
Steve keeps his eyes on him. Bucky's here. He's actually here. Bucky... His best friend, since childhood. The one person who he has shared almost everything with.  
He had thought he'd lost him forever. And up until this day, even though James Barnes was here, alive, he wasn't quite Bucky. Not the Bucky Steve used to know at least…

“I'm glad you're here” Steve blurts out his thoughts without taking his eyes off of Bucky's. He doesn't look back, but it doesn't matter. They're Bucky's eyes, alive, right here.  
Bucky gives him a quick look and mutters something again. Steve doesn't even try to figure out what. He wish the music wasn't so loud.  
“You should come dance with us. In like an hour, you'll beat us all. We're getting pretty drunk and we won't have any coordination left by then.”  
Bucky smiles to that. Smiles. A real smile, smile that reaches his eyes. It makes Steve's heart miss a beat.  _Fuck._

“Maybe I will” Bucky considers. He's so calm and relaxed, it makes Steve feel peaceful. Maybe he will. It's about time Steve gets to dance with his best friend again.   
  
"I'll hold you on to that"  
"I said maybe" Bucky's amused voice brings back memories. Steve used to be drunk like this when he came home from the bar and Bucky would sound just like that. Amused at almost everything he said.  
"I'll make sure you maybe do." Steve says and sits next to Bucky on the table because he doesn't give a fuck anymore. So what if the table breaks under them?

 

Bucky doesn't flinch or move away and the table doesn't break either.

"I can't believe I used to think you'd changed." Bucky mutters and gives Steve a quick side-glance.  
"Well, I used to think so too… I guess I did change for a while"

He really thought he wasn’t himself anymore when he woke up from the ice. Later it turned out it was only the depression, loneliness and the fact he was thrown into the future that made him feel so lost. But the truth is, he's still the kid from Brooklyn, only with more life experience and muscle. 

 

Bucky brings his feet on the table and wraps his arms around his knees. The cup in his hand is empty and Steve takes it from him and places it on the table. For a moment they sit in silence. Steve is sipping his wine and Bucky is looking at the people still dancing. Tony has given up with his phone and is not dancing with Pepper. Maria is dancing with Kelly and Sam and some other people. Bruce is sitting on the couch with Clint, who has Natasha on his lap. Steve feels like he and Bucky have isolated in their corner for a bit too long. He doesn't care though. He turns his head back to Bucky.

 

"Fuck, I missed you" Steve blurts out before he can stop it.  
"You're more drunk than I thought..." Bucky mutters. Steve wishes he would accept those words. He genuinely means them, no matter how  _tipsy_  he might be.  
"Bucky, I really missed you."

Bucky places his head on top of his knees and looks at Steve for a while. The corners of his mouth turn upwards. He’s silent for a while and then whispers: “Punk”

  
  
"Jerk" Steve smiles.  _He is happy._


	3. Not a dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's arms feel like home and thank god Bucky's therapist has a blanket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took way too long to finish. Also my trust for my writing skills is fading, but I'm gonna finish, I promise.
> 
> Thanks to Tania for helping me out<3

_I want you by my side_  
_So that I never feel alone again_  
_They've always been so kind_  
_But now they've brought you away from me_  
_I hope they didn't get your mind_  
_Your heart is too strong, anyway_  
_We need to fetch back the time_  
_They have stolen from us_

[Stolen Dance - Milky Chance](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iX-QaNzd-0Y)

 

At night Bucky can't sleep. There's a constant heat coming from the other side of the bed. It's not because of the warmness per se, it's actually very comforting compared to sleeping in a cold bed all alone. But it's the source of the heat. Steve is so close and it makes Bucky think. And remember.

 

He remembers all the times they kept talking through the night, whispering stories to each other and trying to silence their laughter with their pillows. They'd end up falling asleep in the same bed, in each others spaces. Bucky's folks always knew when they had been staying up too late and gave them a lecture about nights being the time for sleeping. Whether it was because they had heard their laughter during the night or because when they came to wake the boys up, they found them in the same bed, Bucky never found out. Steve’s mom never said a word when she found Bucky’s mattress empty and both of the boys in the same bed. She just woke them up with gentle whispers, patting their heads and calling them to breakfast.

 

The nights when Steve was sick Bucky remembers, too. He remembers how bad it felt. How much he feared, how nothing could've made him leave Steve's bedside. Sarah was scared, too. It shone through from the way she smiled and told Bucky it was all right and he should go home to rest. It only made Bucky want to stay more. Sarah needed him there too, to keep her busy.  She used to bring him tea or milk and maybe a sandvich, make him a bed and clean around the house when she wasn’t nursing Steve or at work. Bucky knew that working was what kept her sane. And even if she told him to go, it was out of habit, she was used to denying help. She was like Steve in that way.  
He couldn’t leave, even when Steve started to get better. Only after Steve started talking again, he allowed himself to stop worrying, left Sarah and Steve to themselves and slept a night in is own bed.

 

He remembers a different kind of fear too, fear of tomorrow. They rarely slept close to each other at the camp. But Bucky remembers staying awake at night and looking at the new Steve sleeping in his bunk. Thinking about how strange he looked, with his new body... but still so familiar, still so Steve. The way he moved was more confident, but there was still something Steve-like left. His voice, delicate hands, and facial expressions were all the same. His eyes might have been upper than before, but they were still the same blue.  
He remembers fearing the next day, of all the loss they would have to suffer. He feared for Steve’s life too, but not as much as when he was sick, as Steve was strong and healthy now.  
But he still feared, of course, who wouldn’t have? Fear came with the package, war made everyone scared, even the toughest of soldiers. And Bucky Barnes was definitely not one of the toughest... not like Steve was.

 

As a kid he loved Steve, the snarky and stubborn skinny boy who always got into trouble. Bucky would've followed Steve everywhere, to every adventure. And he wanted to make sure Steve didn't run into those adventures without him.  
When Steve was sick and Bucky afraid of losing him, he wished he could draw. He would've drawn Steve so that he'll never forget his face. He couldn't follow Steve to this adventure and Bucky felt so useless, he wished he could’ve done something.

He was so terrified of losing him, of forgetting his face, not having it around anymore. He felt frustrated that he couldn’t show him this when he woke up (like maybe a srawing could've shown), he couldn’t let his best friend know how important he was to him.

And when he talked to him again, he had this... attitude, lightness in the way he spoke, like he hadn’t just stayed awake for days, worrying, crying, whispering to Steve. Like he hadn’t just been praying to God to not lose him...

And somehow, he felt like they both knew, even without words, even when Bucky hid his worry behind a smirk.

 

Bucky remembers how much closer he always wanted to be, but couldn’t, unless it was a gesture that he was able to disguise as something best friends would do, or explain with the alcohol in his body.

He wasn’t proud, but he needed those moments. He needed to kiss Steve’s red, soft lips when he was drunk or he would’ve exploded. He needed to feel Steve’s hands against his neck, his body tensing under his touch. He needed to cuddle up with him in the cold winter nights, to keep him warm by getting as close as he could. He needed to feel Steve's skin against his fingers as he cleaned the bruises he'd gotten from a fight. He needed to see the look on Steve's eyes when his fingers touched his lips by accident. He needed that. He wanted that.

 

And he still wants, but can’t. Steve doesn't need him to be closer. He's warm on his own, he doesn't get sick, he can take care of his own wounds. He has other friends to kiss him when he’s drunk… He doesn’t need Bucky anymore.

 

And somehow even still he wants Bucky in his life.

 

Bucky feels confused but happy, somehow. Because that’s more important than need, right? Want… is better, right?

But... What if Steve stops wanting him some day? What if he realises how hard this will be, how messed up Bucky is? And even though these thoughts seem almost impossible, so unlike Steve, he can’t stop them... What if Bucky makes Steve sad just by being in his life?..

 

 

"Buck... I hear you thinkin'" Steve mumbles to his pillow and Bucky is surprised he's awake.

"Sorry, can't sleep" He turns around to face Steve even though he knows this conversation will be short.

"Hmm mm, stop rollin’ around" Steve doesn't sound annoyed, just sleepy, half-asleep.

He lifts his arm from under the blanket and holds it up.

'Come 'ere?"

Bucky stares at Steve’s face for a moment and wonders if he had fallen asleep already. He's not sure what Steve is initiating, or if he's too sleepy to know what he's doing.

He shifts closer and Steve places his arm around him, touching his back, surrounding him with his warmness. Bucky’s nose touches his chin, he can feel his deep breaths on his skin, tingling. It feels so strange, Steve’s the warm one, the big one... Yet, Bucky feels so comfortable here.

 

Bucky can feel a smile forming on his lips, and he lets it.

 

_Remember that the times you feel like smiling are a step towards an actual smile... When your lips curve upwards, don't stop them._

 

\-----------

 

Steve wakes up with a faint headache and bad taste in his mouth, but Bucky's eyes are staring right at his and nothing else matters.

"Morning" Bucky murmurs and grazes his chin with his fingertips. Steve reads this touch could mean "awkward - I don't want to be in this situation”. Or something like that.

"Mornin'," He yawns and turns to lie on his back "did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, didn't wake up once"

The walls are still spinning and Steve feels a bit nauseous lying on his back.

"Oh god," He groans and lifts himself sitting against the headboard.

"I had forgotten what a hangover feels like"

"That bad, huh?" Bucky's leaning his head to his hand and he looks more comfortable already. His hair is a mess and eyes drowsy. Bucky's wearing one of Steve's shirts, an old, ragged one, that looks like it belongs on Bucky. The collar is loose and worn out and Steve can see his neck and right shoulder, and the scar where his prosthetic begins.

"Uh, yeah..." He places his eyes back to Bucky's face and suddenly a memory from last night comes back to his thoughts. Memory with Bucky's hand on his waist and an familiar song coming from he stereo, gentle smiles and laughter...

Bucky did dance with him after all!

  


The rest of the evening had passed by quickly (they'd found more liquor too...) and sooner than Steve would’ve liked, everyone had to leave. Well, everyone expect Bucky…

 

______________

 

Natasha and Clint leave with Tony and Pepper in a one big smash out. Steve kind of misses their exit because he's staring at the man standing by the window. He's looking out to the night sky. His silhouette makes Steve want to draw.

Bucky's still here. He's gonna stay here. Steve can't stop his brain and heart from swaying to every direction.

He gets interrupted by Bruce and Maria shouting their goodbyes and the door shutting. Silence fills the apartment that was crammed with so many people and sounds just a moment ago. The music had stopped playing an hour ago. There are only Steve and Bucky left. Damn he wishes he had a dog to take out for a walk, to get his head fixed in the cold night air.

  


“You tired?” He asks, his voice echoing softly in the silent room and Bucky jumps a little, waking from his thoughts.

“Nah” He turns around to face Steve, whose head spinning a bit. He's on the slower side of drunk, the part when you start getting hungry and tired, but still want to stay awake to feel the rest of the buzz.

"Are you?" Bucky continues.

“Not yet, I will fall asleep here though if we don't do something” He yawns to prove his point. Bucky stays silent and slumps beside him on the couch.

“Okay. Whatcha wanna do then?” He asks in a sincere tone, like he has no idea what Steve would want to do. Which, he probably doesn't. Steve shakes his head to whisk those ideas away. He's too drunk to do that, though.

“You promised me you'd dance” Steve grins and moves his legs from the table. He takes a better position on the couch, facing Bucky.

“I never promised” The other one mirrors his movements to get a better posture as well.

“C’mon, Buck!”

“Ughh...” He grimaces and then gives Steve A sad puppy-look. Steve almost stops asking.

“Please? Just this once. To celebrate Kelly and Sam! Pretty please?”

After the third 'please Buck', he gets up and sighs.

“I give up. I'll choose to music, though”

  


Bucky types something on the computer. Steve has no clue what kind of music Bucky listens to nowadays. That makes him a bit sad. Does Bucky even listen to music anymore?

What Steve hears next is a tune so nostalgic that he can visualize the crowded dance floors of 1935 in his mind.

Steve recognizes the song to be Begin the Beguine by Cole Porter, a hit back then.

"I know this song!" He can't stop himself. Every time someone plays a song he recognizes, he feels obliged to let them now. There's so much music... So many genres and channels on the radio (not that anyone listens to radio anymore), it's hard to keep track.

"I know you know it" Bucky gets up from the chair. "Shall we?"

Steve lifts himself off the couch, smiling. This is not what he expected. But it's nice. He's glad Bucky isn't drunk, though. They'd probably end up on the floor if he was.

"Remember when you got a dance from.... What's her name? Molly?" Bucky grins and places his right hand on Steve's waist. Steve catches the other one in his hand.

"Molly O'Connell. How can you remember this?" Steve feels a light blush on his face. He had hoped to forget that night.

"Because I haven't laughed that hard ever since. The look on her face!" Bucky grins as they they take their first steps on the dancefloor.

"Please stop" Steve groans but it's all for naught.

"I can't believe you stepped on her toes... Five times!" Bucky continues, wearing the same familiar grin. "Five times, Steve!"

"Yeah yeah... And then I lost my balance and fell over her and we both almost ended up on the floor and she ditched me.." Steve explains it himself so that Bucky doesn't get the chance. He feels like that clumsy kid from Brooklyn all over again. With the blushing and everything. Bucky can't hold his laugh.

  


"Oh come on Buck! Don't make me go through this again." Steve pleads but deep down he's just glad to see Bucky like this. So happy.

"I'm sorry I can't help it" Bucky looks him in the eye and there’s this familiar little sparkle in his eyes, which causes a familiar feeling in the bottom of Steve's belly.

"This is the second time I have to go through those memories while dancing with you, you know?"  

"Yeah.... It is"

They dance in silence for a moment.

"Holy shit Rogers, you're actually not shit at this anymore. Have you been practising?" Bucky looks at him and his legs and then back to his face again with a shocked face.

"Like I'd have time to dance."

Bucky half-shrugs: "You never know..."

  


\--------------

 

“Do you wanna order in?” Steve asks once they've gotten up from the bed, just to lie down on the couch and chair again. Netflix is open, but they couldn't decide what to watch.

“What time is it? I have to leave before four.. I’m seeing my therapist today.” Bucky hasn’t talked about his therapist to Steve before but he must’ve known by now, so it's not like it's news.

“I can drive you back. We got two hours” Steve says and puts his phone back on the coffee table.

“Two hours are enough for pizza, right?”

Steve composes himself on the couch, sitting upward and takes the phone to his hand again and grins. “It so is”

 

Bucky feels more relaxed than in long time.

 

\-----------

 

“Hey, good to see you” Ms. Owens opens the door to her room and lets Bucky pass him. Bucky nods at her and sits to his chair. He takes off his jacket and searches the pocket for the letter he wrote. Owens takes her seat too. Here they are again. Bucky starts this time.

“Uhh, I wrote to you… about my feelings and stuff...”  
This is a big deal for him, those things he wrote... he has never talked about before, to anyone and to talk about them out loud was a frightening thought. Ms Owens - Erica, as she wishes Bucky to call her - smiles that tiny smile of hers that makes Bucky feel a bit better, at ease. He looks at the piece of paper in his hands and wonders if this is a bad idea. He didn’t even read through it before… He just knew he should give it to someone. He trusts no one else this way, to not judge, to feel bad for him, so this seems like a good option.

“You can read it now or later, how ever you’d like” He adds and hands the paper to her.

“Would _you_ like me to read it now?” She doesn’t even look at the paper, just keeps it in her hand and looks at Bucky, waiting for an answer.

Bucky nods and looks down at his shoes. He has an urge to take them off and sit on the floor. He feels nervous.

“Okay, tell me if you want me to stop reading at any time”

Bucky nods again.

 

He knows it doesn’t take long to read two pages of handwritten text, but it feels like it’s been ten minutes already. He tries to memorize all the things he wrote to that paper. About his nightmares, insecurities, his hateful thoughts that rise out of nowhere (never toward people, mostly general hate or sometimes anger towards random objects), his feelings about Steve and himself, his lost memories, his parents, people who pass him by and look at his prosthetic with disgust or… curiosity that reminds him of something terrible… of coldness and pain, people talking to him, but not him, just The Winter Soldier, like he's a thing they've created, they're excited about...

He wrote about so many things he wonders if any of it makes any sense.

 

 

In what feels like forever Erica places the paper to the table.

“Do you want me to keep it?” She looks at Bucky again, and Bucky is almost surprised she doesn’t look different, doesn’t look at Bucky differently, but then he remembers - she's a professional. Ms Owens is not allowed to look at him differently after getting to know him more, even if he told her he's dreaming about genocide, she should remain as she was, talk him through his thoughts.

“You can keep it” Bucky feels almost embarrassed.

“Does this help? Me reading your writing?” She asks.

“I don’t know”

“Okay. I think it would help more if you kept this paper to yourself”

“Why's that?"

“You could read it when you feel like it. It could help. Just a suggestion."

“I can get it from you if I need it, it's safe here, right?”

“I’ll try not to lose it then” She smiles softly and Bucky nods.

 

“About… Steve” He says before he can stop himself. “He does make me happy”

Erica looks at him, waiting for more.

“At least I remember what being happy is like when I’m with Steve. He makes me smile, like I.. Forget myself for a while and get lost in memories... Do you think that’s a good thing?” Bucky feels that making someone else his happiness might cause more sadness in the long run. But he’s not sure if that’s what’s happening here. He needs reassurance.

“I don’t think it’s a bad thing, at least” She smiles again and does what she usually does when Bucky asks her something: “Do you think it’s a good thing?”

“I…” Bucky ponders it for a while and stares out from the window behind her. “I think Steve is a good thing. Steve’s good, but I might make it bad… If I’m not careful”

“What do you mean by making it bad?”

“I might lose him… That’d be bad, for me”

“You might lose him by not being careful..? Careful how?”

“If I… I lose control, if I show him how messed up I am… He might get scared. I mean, he wouldn’t leave me or whatever, but.. I couldn’t be with him if I’d have to see him being sad for me all the time. Steve’s had his own share. I don't wanna burden him with more”

Erica is silent for a moment.

“But Steve makes you happy?” She asks, but Bucky knows there’s more.

“Yes”

“Can I quote your letter to yourself?”

“Um,” Bucky finally gets rid of his shoes. His feet are cold, he needs to warm them between his hands. "Okay"

Ms. Owens takes the letter from the table. "Are you sure this is ok?"

"Yeah, just go for it" 

“ _I sometimes wish Steve’d talk to me more. Like last night, he said he’d missed me, and I wished he’d talk to me about that time, when he was.. he thought I was… gone_ ”

Bucky feels himself blushing. That particular part, out of context sounded terrible, selfish and childish. He feels like running away from the room, there’s no way he’d give more of his thoughts to this session. He feels so embarrassed… The whole letter idea had been stupid.

Memories from last night keep popping up in his head, him and Steve dancing, Steve smiling, Sam and Kelly talking to him, ‘Tasha being happy and smiling to him, him feeling like he needs to sleep for a year. He couldn’t leave, though and then it was all worth it, 'cause they danced, like they used to, and they smiled... and then at night Steve took him under his arm, held him and he was so close... He didn’t sleep for another 30 minutes, just smiling under Steve's arm's weight.

 

“James?”

Bucky’s head weighs a ton and his face is warm and hands sweaty against his feet which are still crossed on his chair.

“‘m sorry, I can’t do this right now” he admits and looks at the floor.

“It's okay. Is it alright if I finish what I was gonna say?” Erica sounds so genuine again, with that tiny smile on her face, like she’s exactly where she needs to be, content, just doing her job.

“Yeah”

“I’ll keep this short. You’d want Steve to talk to you, about the harder stuff too, right? And would still be happy around him, if he did" Bucky nods.  
  
"Don’t you think that’s exactly what Steve feels, too? I’m sure he just wants to be around you, no matter what, and is happy to be with his friend no matter what. He cares about you, just like you care about him” Bucky can't nod to that, not quite.  


Erica places the paper on the table and gets up from her chair. She walks to a cabinet in the corner of the room and takes something from there. A blanket. She walks back and holds it up. “Doya want this? You can sleep for the rest of the session, you look exhausted”

Bucky smiles. Soon there’s warmness around him.

"Talk to your friend, James"

 

He's not sure if she had said that or if he just imagined.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think, my muse lives for comments!


End file.
